Ichigami
by Aurona X
Summary: "My name is Orihime, Princess of the Heavens... come forth..." She is the lonely Princess of the Heavens and the Weaver of the night Sky. He is something forbidden, a Shinki that should not exist. Her Protector. The Gods converge as war approaches, and a hidden God waits for the moment to strike. - Ichihime. Renruki. Noragami Au.
1. Prologue

_When a God is born, it is born of a wish. It can be a wish made by a collective, or a wish of impossible desire made by a single being. As such, contrary to what many humans believe, they are subject to the will of men._

 _Should a God become forgotten, or they do not fulfill the wish they are born from, they shall die._

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

A single golden throne, alone in a mist-veiled room of immense size. The floors are white, threaded with gold and blue hues. It glows with heavenly light, a beacon. There is but one being here, dressed in immaculately perfect robes with an equally perfect posture that wavers for but a moment. And then a tear. A single, lonely tear, as clear as a raindrop, makes soundless contact with the finely polished floor at his feet. It is the first and the last.

In the distance; a sound, new and different.

A man, young in appearance with dark hair and skin untouched by time, looks up with ancient eyes filled with hope.

 **.**

 **.**

A decrypt throne of stone, hidden in vast hallways and grand rooms. Strong hands grasp the arms of the stone throne, cracking it. Thin lips curved into a snarl. He stands with a single sweep of a dark cloak, and power rolls through the grand structure. Servants in shackles scurry away.

In the distance; a roar that fades into a single cry.

The malicious curve of his lips turns wicked with satisfaction, dark eyes turning up toward the heavens in defiance. Eager for the coming despair.

.

.

.

 _What, you may wonder, would happen should a God make a wish of their own?_


	2. Chapter 1

Her birth as a Goddess was a unique one, as it was undefined. Unknown. Her brother, even with all his power and sight, did not know what wish brought her to life. And so, she had nothing to preside over, no title. And Sora, loving her more than his own existence, feared for her. And to ensure that she would never be forgotten from the hearts of mortals, he gave her a title befitting her name; The Weaver Princess of the Heavens.

Bestowed with a loom, a relic that was just as old as the Gods themselves, she wove the night sky into place every night. Over the centuries, she wove the stories of the Gods and men into the stars. She carefully wove every star into place; guided adventurers home and gave children the sense of wonderment at the cosmos. And when she was not weaving the stars into the sky, she was weaving clothing for Recognized Gods and Goddesses that her brother had believed worthy of such gifts.

It was natural, of course, that her first gift went to her dear brother. A grand set of robes made of white silk, with layers of sky blue that left the impression it was woven from the skies themselves. Gold detailing tied it together, giving it a truly heavenly appearance befitting the King of the Heavens.

She was delighted. Where many Gods and Goddesses were lazy with their work, preferring to dart around their duties until prompted otherwise, Orihime was different. She loved her work and cherished the fact that she had been given such a constant job. And she wove every thread with care, and with pride.

She wove a grand Kimono for the Goddess of Snow, one of her dearest friends, made of white silks and sapphire threads that shaped thousands of tiny snowflake flurries along the hem and sleeves. She wove a beautiful – and slightly revealing, per-request – Kimono, for a Goddess of Love; made of pink silk with gold detailing along the sleeves and hem to match her radiant hair. She wove for a God of Fortune, the elder brother of the Goddess of Snow, a grand set of robes to display his prominent wealth on Earth, as well as in the Royal Realm.

In little time she became known as a jewel of the Heavens. Loved by the servants and guards – lesser Gods – of the Palace, as she treated them with care and respect. Orihime was adored by the Gods and Goddesses whom often visited the Royal Palace. For her endearing nature made many naturally want to flock to her side.

This was Sora's greatest pride, as well as his greatest fear. It was no secret how dearly he loved his sister, or how much she was widely adored by many of the other Gods. He knew there were few Gods, Gods that lurked in the darkest shadows, that would look to use his sister.

And so, he locked her away.

The Northern wing became her home, fit with its own staff of servants and guards. With its gleaming white towers and walls, it sat, connected to the main Palace by a single bridge of stone, over a vast divide of rock and stone. It was not to say that she was never allowed to leave, in fact, her brother adored her visits and doted on her whenever given the chance. But it was unspoken – when she was not visiting him, that was where she would be.

And though all the time she spent weaving, through the many centuries and changes, never once did she leave or stray further than the Gardens of the Royal Palace.

Until that day.

.

It had been a daring move – insane, really – to journey outside of the heavens and to Earth alone. It was something her brother had expressly forbidden her from doing. He claimed that there was simply no need for it, but she knew the truth. He was trying to protect her from something that was completely natural for every God, yet it was still something he feared would come to pass.

For every God, even many of the lesser Gods had a Shinki. They were the Sacred Treasures of the Gods; a tool and many times a friend to the immortal beings. A Shinki was a being made from the wandering soul of a human, and often found wondering on Earth. There were thousands of such souls on earth, but a lucky few were taken in by the Gods. In these cases, souls were taken by a God who believed they deserved a second chance or saw in them a powerful tool. Given a name by the God in question, they would take human form until called to fight with their God or Goddess.

One might ask, however, what a God would need to fight. While it was true, Gods most commonly fought among themselves for one reason or another, the Gods – particularly those of fortune – had a duty to the world. For when a spirit is corrupt with sin or impurity, they become evil beings with the singular goal of consumption and corruption of other spirts. And only a Shinki – a weapon of God – can destroy them.

Her brothers' favorite and strongest Shinki was also the most unique and powerful to ever be known, and it was quite befitting considering that he was the King of the Heavens. The Shinki, bestowed with the name Kiun, took the form of a serpentine dragon made of lightning. But it had been long since Sora last called his name. And Kiun remained loyal to his God just as any other Shinki would despite this, even preferring it that way. He never strayed from Sora's side.

It was no secret that Orihime wanted a Shinki of her own. For so long she saw the friendship and loyalty shared between a Shinki and their God – particularly between Kiun and Sora. In many ways the two were alike, and if Orihime had never known otherwise she would have thought Kiun was also her brother. For her protected her just as fiercely as Sora, if not more so, claiming that because she was Sora's world then she was also _his_ world. And the thought touched her heart, as well as solidified her own desire for such an honest bond.

Her brother once confided in her, however, the risks of taking on a Shinki. Although they were powerful and useful tools for the Gods, as servants or weapons, Shinki came with a burden even they were unaware of. A secret every God Guarded fiercely. For every Shinki once lived as a human and died as one. Upon given their posthumans name, their life as a human would be locked away behind the brand of their new name. And though her brother had never gone into detail of the intimate event, he explained that there was great pain for the God naming a Shinki. And it was a pain he never wanted her to experience and felt she had no true need to experience it. For Kiun would protect her as well, if not better, than any Shinki she could hope to have.

Nevertheless, understanding of her brother's protective warnings, Orihime envied the other Gods. And despite her brothers loving attention, and the kind attention of his own Shinki, she found herself yearning for one of her own. A companion. A friend. But she knew that her brother would be furious if she ever took a Shinki for her own.

She hoped he would be just a little _less_ furious over a simple visit to Earth.

Upon setting foot on Earth, she noticed several things.

There was, first and foremost, far more to _feel_. Cold, wet, and so very alive. The second being that it somehow felt so much _bigger_ than the Royal Realm. As if it were filled with far more possibility and variation.

It was raining. And it was _cold_. And the beautiful Goddess relished in the sensation of the rain touching her skin, as it was the first time she was given the pleasure of feeling it. It did not rain in Heaven unless the gardens needed watering. And were she to ever try to step outside, the showers would stop. Another protective trick of her brothers.

A soft smile overtook her lips as she tilted her head back, lips parted in a soft sigh as droplet after droplet touched her cheeks. For the first time in all her existence, she had been selfish. And while her brother was otherwise occupied, she had snuck away from the Royal Realm and set foot on earth.

The grass underfoot was soft, and cold, and although her toes were turning pink she was glad she had not brought shoes. The grass in the Gardens of the Royal Realm had no temperature, just existing with the environment. Here it was real and _alive_. And the scents of nearby flowers, and the dirt, and the trees… it was all so intricate, and she could _feel_ it with every step.

She knelt, uncaring that her beautiful kimono spun of white and Gold became dirty from the action. She could easily weave herself another kimono. Besides, she did not know how long she would have to enjoy her time on Earth. Granted time moved differently in the Royal Realm, but she would have to return to weave the stars into the sky before long.

Sitting on her heels, she tilted her head up to the sky and sighed as the sun touched her skin through the gaps in the clouds. She pushed the thoughts of returning to the Royal Palace out of her mind and allowed herself to enjoy the sensations of the earth. And enjoy it she did. She listened to the sound of birds singing, and the babbling of a nearby brook, and the gentle whisper of tall grass in the wind. All the while, she remained seated on her heels, eyes closed with her face in the picture mask of serenity.

And then she felt the presence of another.

Her eyes opened, and she turned in the direction of the sensation that was slowly rolling over her skin. It was calm and warm, but somehow sad. So very sad.

Without further prompt, she stood once more and began to follow the feeling toward the tree line. But upon entering the trees, she felt another darker sensation that made her hesitate before continuing forward with caution. Her kimono, due to its heavenly make, did not snag on twigs or tear but glided smoothly over the fallen leaves.

The trees blocked out the warm and friendly sun, letting only small shafts of light in to illuminate her surroundings in a hauntingly beautiful way.

It was not long before she saw the cause for her unease. Human bodies, strewn about blood muddied dirt, wounded and forgotten. Her heart sank, a dark feeling catching her throat. It was a small battleground, or perhaps massacre was a better word. She had heard of these – her brother had always shielded her from the worst of them, but she had read about them and seen them from her place in the night sky. There were Gods that presided over such things, Gods of Calamity and War, but she had not met them. And looking at the devastation of death before her, she knew now that she did not want to.

And then she saw it. A flicker by the tree.

Her head tilted to the side as she observed it, even more curious (and quite frankly more baffled by its size) than before. It was large, very well the size of her own head. That alone made it very strange, as most spirits were seldom larger than the size of one's thumb. It hovered in the air at chest level, rising minutely up and down as if it were breathing.

It radiated energy, the same energy that had drawn her to it, as it hovered over a long object stuck in the ground. Curiously, she stepped forward. As she grew closer, it seemed to hum. But it was not an unfriendly sound, so she continued until it hovered not a foot away from her. And she looked down.

Just under it lay a sword with the resemblance of a large knife. It was simple but thick, likely to be incredibly heavy unless one was very strong. It was so deeply embedded in the earth that she had no knowledge of how long it really was, but she assumed it was easily as tall as she was if not more. And she had little doubt that this weapon had once belonged to the spirit in life.

Her hand raised as if reaching to touch the sword, or perhaps the spirit itself. The spirit hummed loudly in response, and another wave of energy rolled over her skin. It was not unfriendly but still caused her to shiver in response. And her hand paused, hesitating as she continued to study the strangeness before her. Her head cocked to the side.

It was a striking cobalt blue, but she could detect the barest trace of red and mingling black deep within its core. As though something had been hurt inside of it, twisted, and mutated into something else. Most spirits were white, to show purity. The rarest of times they would be a dull gray, but nothing darker than that.

It was a _damaged_ soul. And a unique one on top of that.

She paused at the realization, lips pursing in thought.

Damaged souls did not just _happen_. In fact, if she remembered right, a soul could not just be _damaged_. Not without fading seconds thereafter, or at worst becoming an evil spirit to later be killed by a God of Fortune. It was an impossibility and would challenge everything the Gods had ever believed to know. Yet here it was.

 _Different_. Like her.

Her hand dropped back to her side, and she cocked her head to the other side. As if somehow a different angle would help her understand what she was seeing.

The humming of the soul softened, and it continued to pulse with the same impossible energy. Yet another difference between it and the average soul. While all souls destined to be Shinki exuded an aura, they never _radiated_ pure energy the in the way this soul did. There was a thick power to it, and if she did not know better she would think that the soul was that of a young God. But that was too impossible – too crazy – for even her wild imagination to even think.

She knew that any moment, a God, or Goddess of War – perhaps a god of Fortune even - would come to claim it. It was like a beacon with all the wild energy it was putting off, and she would not be surprised if even her brothers' interest would be piqued by this Soul. She had no doubt this spirit would be a fine and powerful Shinki to a powerful God.

Her frown deepened, taking on a sad quality.

 _No..._ they would get rid of this soul by whatever means they thought necessary. It was impure. _Broken_. No God would take it for fear of corrupting themselves. Instead, they would tear this soul in two or send it to a God of Learning to pick it apart until it was screaming for mercy. All just to figure out how it became the way it did, and what its existence meant for the realm of Gods and Shinki. It would know nothing but pain and confused fear.

A lone tear slid down her cheek at the thought, and her heart ached with compassion.

It would be a terrible fate. And she could sense, just the warmth of the power is radiated, that this spirit was a _good_ one. Kind, generous, perhaps a little stubborn, but so very _good_ in its nature. It was cruel and unfair. So terribly unfair she wanted to weep for it.

Above her, the skies began to darken with a low rumble, and a feeling of dread settled over her heart as a familiar feeling rolled through her very bones. It was a sensation she had felt only a few times in her existence, and every time her brother had requested her to be locked in her rooms with her full guard at the ready. The light rain from before began to grow into a steady downpour.

 _Aizen..._ The most well-known God of Calamity. At first, he had been considered a great God of Wisdom, but his true nature was discovered when his council to other Gods proved to cause only chaos. Hence is newly given title as a God of Calamity. With his betrayal, he was forbidden from entering the Heavens unless specifically called on by her brother. And as expected, Aizen retained a notorious hate for her brother, and herself by extension, over the situation.

Her gaze searched the skies once more. She was vulnerable. She needed to leave, run before he saw her. She saw now that she had been foolish to leave the Royal Realm.

She looked back to the spirit, and a feeling overtook her heart. A feeling so fierce, it could have very well brought her to her knees if she let it.

Aizen was coming for this spirit. It would become his Shinki, or he would torture it for his own gain. It was no secret that the Shinki under his care became mutated and mutilated for his search of power. This one would be no different – it would even become his prized subject, no doubt.

And it continued to hover, innocent and unaware of what was coming. Just as different as she was, just as alone. Just as vulnerable.

 _No..._

She stepped forward until the large soul was only inches away. And slowly, her hands raised to cup it gently. Its warmth shocked her, the power it radiated crackling against her own like static. But it was not harmful. It was curious, gentle, and yet somehow demanding in its persistence… to _connect_.

Suddenly she found herself smiling a soft and tender smile.

She raised one hand, two slender fingers pointing toward the soul as it hummed louder. As if it were calling to her. And somehow, she knew, her choice did not need to be made. It just was. And somehow, she knew what she needed to do with striking clarity.

"Thou, with nowhere to go and nowhere to return... I shall grant you a place to belong." Her fingers began to glide in the air, golden energy following in its wake.

"My name is Orihime, Princess of the Heavens... bearing a posthumous name, you shall remain here. With this name, I make thee my servant - my _companion._ "

 _ **I**_

"With this name..."

 _ **chi**_

"I use my life to make you a Devine instrument..."

 _ **go**_

"Come forth, _Ichigo_."

And then, she felt his pain.

 **.**

No one had told her how it felt - how it would feel. She knew _what_ would happen, but she could not have truly _known_. Not really. And at this moment, she understood why her brother had never wanted her to take on a Shinki.

It came in flashes. Long parts of his memories, then small snippets.

A woman with long hair, and a pretty smile. The way her hand was small but cradled his childlike one with warmth and security. He would follow her anywhere. The basket on her hip that smelt of flowers and bread; of _her_.

A man with a silly voice and a large grin. Big hands tousling his hair until smacked away by the nearest object his tiny hands could reach. The scent of gunpowder and steel and the feeling of his fathers armor under his fingertips as he whispered childish promises to _Protect_.

Two girls, so alike and so different. Just babies, but large in his arms. They smelt of powder and milk and giggled loudly. He would grow bigger, and he would use his father's armor to protect them. That was why he had been born first, after all.

An untroubled home, large but not filled with meaningless possessions. Instead, it was filled with warmth, laughter, and the smell of freshly baked bread. The heat of the sun on his back, and the flexing of his muscles as he worked – for a present? A present for the twins – thirteen was a very important age.

The drums echoing in the mountains. The drums of war.

The blood coating his hands when the beautiful woman passed, and the horror as his warrior father and innocent sisters fell to the blades of the enemies.

The loneliness in his soul, and the feeling that he had _failed_ them.

The war. The bloody, painful war. The screaming and clashing of steel, the pain that never stopped - _gods it had to stop!_ The burning of the fire, and the laughter of that man - _the traitor, Gods, how could he?!_ \- as he watched him burn, burn _, burn_. The fury, and rage. A battle, long and bloody, he was so tired, but he continued to fight even as his very bones crumbled under the force of his own heavy swings of his sword. A flash of a silver sword, risen high-

The heartbreaking sadness, and despair that came with a bloody death.

 **.**

When her eyes opened once again, she saw the sky through the branches of leaf-bare trees. The dark storm clouds rolled overhead, rain cascading down from the heavens in thick droplets. And something…

 _Orange. A sunset? No..._

Sunsets did not scowl.

An unfamiliar face, that at the same time seemed so very familiar to her, stared down at her with the most impressive scowl she had ever seen. He was heart-wrenchingly handsome, with a strong jaw and stubborn chin set on a pleasantly tanned face. Serious brown eyes the color of her favorite human treat – chocolate – peered at her from under a thick orange colored hair.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

She studied him for a moment, noting somewhere in her mind that her head was resting on his lap and that he was shielding her from the rain. His tall – _so very tall_ – frame curved over her, shoulders hunching over as he met her gaze. He was dressed in a loose white robe, the robes of a recently risen Shinki, which clung to his strong shoulders and arms as rain descended from above.

Her hand rose without thought, and he flinched. She hesitated a second before letting her fingers caress his cheek, watching with interest as the tanned skin turned darker over his cheekbones. And she could see. Not all of it, but she could see it. Feel it. He was a gentle being, down to his very core. A warrior, yes, but so very kindhearted.

Tears began to fall from her eyes, startling him.

"H-hey wait, I didn't mean to-"

"Ichigo." He started, his spine going straight and his eyes wide.

"My lone protector, my _Ichigo_." Her voice was thick, watery. And he was obviously so very confused. She smiled up at him apologetically for the fact, tears falling freely from her eyes with both lingering sadness and the feeling of overwhelming joy. Because she no longer felt so _alone_. It was a selfish feeling.

A Shinki was chosen to be a companion to a God, but most importantly a protector in every sense of the word.

"What are you-" He began again, but she cut him off with a voice so soft it _forced_ him to listen.

"But... I will protect _you_ , ne?"

Her other hand reached up, grasping his robes in a tiny fist.

They vanished from the forest in a golden flash.

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

And so, their story began.


	3. Chapter 2

They landed not half a second later in the center the Heavenly Gardens, transported just outside of the large maze she had spent many years hiding in as a young Goddess. She landed on top of him, her head bouncing three times off his shoulder as they skidded to a stop in the dirt. Around them, flowers and leaves rustled, as if agitated by the graceless landing.

No, it was not her finest landing in the _slightest_.

"What the _fuck_." Underneath her, Ichigo groaned, holding the back of his head.

Orihime pushed herself up to a sitting position and began batting dirt and grime off his clothing with her hands. Her own kimono, stained with dirt and grass, was the least of her concerns.

 _He is my responsibility_ , she scolded herself, at the same time noting his obvious bafflement. Again, the feeling of remorse overcame her. She had yet to explain what was going on, and from the growing glare on his face, she knew she only had a few moments to start.

" _Where_ the fuck _-_ "

His loud exclamation quickly halted as her hands slapped over his mouth. She glanced around, worried that they would be caught by the guards that frequented the Gardens. And after a moment of silence, where the guards didn't come thundering out of the bushes, her shoulders sagged with relief.

A large hand caught her wrists, wrenching them away from his mouth– which she now saw was set in a firm scowl - with surprising strength. She fought the very un-godly urge to squirm under his gaze.

"Where the _fuck_ are, we?" He demanded, his grip tightening on her wrists, his eyes darted around the area. Cautious, yet she could see the awe hidden behind his eyes. And she knew why.

The Heavenly Gardens would be unlike anything he had ever seen, and more overwhelming than anything. It was a striking sight, even for many lesser Gods, with flowers the likes of which had never seen on Earth – and never would be. They ranged from all colors, all shapes, and all sizes. From tiny purple flowers the size of ones' thumb, to vibrant red ones well over the length of a man's arm. Many of the plants had been created by various Gods, either as a hobby or a pet project to ease boredom and were kept in the Gardens. The most beautiful and tame were closer to the Royal Palace, while the more dangerous specimens stayed safely tucked away beyond the maze. The grass underfoot was somehow too soft to feel like grass – at least in comparison to the grass on Earth. Trees of all shapes, sizes, and colors had been placed strategically throughout the gardens, varying just as much as the flowers. Some of them, her favorites, grew flowers of their own.

"Oi, I asked a _question._ " His attention was on her again, unwavering.

She blinked owlishly at him for a moment, eyes then darting back and forth between his hands on her wrists and his firm gaze. And she wondered how she must look to him – ridiculous, as dirty as she was – certainly not at all like a Goddess. She scrambled for an explanation that would – _hopefully_ – not shock him too severely.

"The Royal Realm?"

The look on his face told her that was not an acceptable answer, and she scrambled to come up a better answer that he would understand.

"Heaven?" She supplied, sounding equal parts sheepish as well as hopeful that he would accept this answer. Instead, he stared at her blankly, almost as if she had grown a second head, and she worried that she had chosen the worst conceivable way to answer.

"Heaven?" He repeated, his tone devoid of emotion.

She nodded rapidly, auburn hair bouncing around her face. And her concern grew as a play of expressions crossed his face. Disbelief, shock, anger, and finally…

His grip on her wrists loosened, a heavy look clouding his eyes. His shoulders slumped, and his head fell back to softly thump against the ground. He gazed up at the blue sky overhead through hooded eyelids.

"Then I'm… _dead._ "

 _Acceptance._

Her newly freed hands folded together neatly on her lap, fingers intertwining as she bit the inside of her cheek. This was new to them both, and once more she felt a striking feeling of guilt for putting him in such a position. Her, a Goddess that was not supposed to ever _have_ Shinki, and him – a _new_ Shinki, nonetheless.

"Yes… you are no longer human."

His gaze remained locked on the sky, his lips twisted into a heavy frown.

"You… you have been given another chance; as my Sacred Treasure..." She supplied softly, watching his face for any sign of negative reaction and hoping some part of him might find solace in it. His brow furrowed in confusion, as there was no way he could know what being a Sacred Treasure was just yet, but she could also see he was taking her words seriously.

His cheeks darkened minutely after a minute, and he averted his gaze to the tall wall of the maze just a few yards away. And he stared at it for several long minutes, as if he were studying it.

"If that's true, and I really am dead… then who – _what_ \- are you then? What the _hell_ is a Sacred Treasure and what does that mean exactly?"

She felt a small flicker of surprise at his clear acceptance of his situation.

She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could a sound rang out across the gardens. It was clear and held a single tone for several moments before fading slowly. It sounded much like a bell, but somehow more ethereal as it continued to roll through the realm. It rolled through her body, a familiar vibration right down to her bones. He sat upright, clearly startled by the feeling rolling through his muscles.

A small part of her marveled at the fact that someone aside from her – and her brother – could now feel it simply because he was _connected_ to her. It was a sensation she had grown used to long ago, and no longer batted an eyelash toward, but surely it would have felt jarring to him. And they would continue to share so much more – if he wanted to stay with her, that is. She bit her lip thoughtfully, casting her gaze to the ground beside them – and then an idea struck her.

She faced him with a bright smile, her eyes crinkling into half-moons.

"Let me _show_ you."

 **.**

She knew it would be a task of its own, sneaking Ichigo into the Royal Palace – much less into her chambers. And she was very correct. It had taken far too long to sneak him through the long hallways, ducking around corners to avoid the guards patrolling.

His own confusion and utter bafflement at what was happening around him was only half the problem. The other half resided in the fact that he seemed completely unaware how much pure and raw power he exuded. It was like a waterfall the likes of which she had never seen, overflowing, and crashing without end. As a spirit it was like waving a beacon in the dark, beckoning other Gods to come and claim him. As a Shinki, he presented himself like a challenge. Something to overcome and overpower. _Control_. She would need to teach him how to control it properly, and soon.

Until then, she masked his presence with her own; something that took a surprising amount of effort to carry out. He absorbed her energy just by being in her presence, and it left her feeling strangely fatigued. And he didn't seem to be aware of it. It would be a constant struggle to keep him hidden until he could control himself.

She must have been making a dreadful expression because she caught Ichigo's gaze as they turned a corner. She hoped the smile she gave him was believable.

 **.**

And yet, the struggle of stumbling through the Palace Hallways, from dragging his slack-jawed form away from grand portraits, statues, crossing the stone bridge unseen, and dodging patrolling guards; it was all well worth it. Particularly when he saw their destination; her favorite place in the Royal Realm. Her private Garden.

Located just outside of the Northern wing, her garden was not as extensive as the one surrounding the Palace. It did not have millions of species of plants, grasses, nor animals. It was a still quite a large area, square in shape, in the far back of the Northern wing. The grass was green, and soft. There were roses, bluebells, azaleas, and so many more earthen flowers organized into perfect placement. At the very center, lay a clear pool of water. It was easily several yards across and lined with smooth stones. Though no animals lived in her little pond, several lotus flowers had started to bloom on the surface. A tall tree stood two yards to its side, with long branches that wept with brilliant periwinkle blue flowers; something of her own creation.

Beside her, Ichigo stopped in his tracks at the sight, his jaw growing slack. And she felt no small amount of pride that he found her garden – her special place – stunning enough for him to stop walking and admire it. Or at least, she hoped that was the reason he stopped. A small part of her twisted with nerves; she wanted him to _like_ it here.

She gazed back up at the skies, watching their hue slowly change as her brother prepared for her. There was little time for her to prepare. And so, she guided Ichigo over the grass by his wrist, urging him to sit down with little difficulty as he still seemed to be distracted by his surroundings.

Her hands fluttered over his shoulders for a moment or two of fretting before she scurried to the edge of the pool, rolling the long sleeves of her kimono up as she knelt. She felt a small amount of nervousness – just as strong as eagerness – to show him what she did. Although she was not as impressive as the other gods, who could conjure earthly elements into their palms and snap their fingers to halt a flood. She was _good_ at weaving, better than her brother in fact. And she wanted to impress her Shinki; show him that she was a Goddess _worth_ being with, even if he didn't understand his position just yet.

She glanced back at him, taking in his curious gaze. His eyebrows furrowed, lips pursed, and his eyes watched her with complete focus. Her cheeks flushed, but she managed a smile before turning her gaze back to the pool of water before her.

Then her hand extended, palm faced downward toward the depths. She ignored the nervous tremble of her fingers as she felt his gaze on her back.

The water began to stir, rippling softly as something began to rise from the depths. It glowed softly, humming with expectant energy. It rose up, and up, and she heard Ichigo inhale sharply as it finally rose through the surface of the water. A loom. Only, it was not the large bulky things that humans used. This was smaller and needed only for her to rest it upon the edge of her knees for her to use it. Its length, twice her height, remained half dipped under the surface.

And with a short glance at the sky, her fingers began to move.

It was a familiar dance for her, the pulling of energy between her fingers. Tonight, she would make a new star by drawing the very energy of the heavens between her fingertips and using the loom to form it into the thread.

Above head, the night sky began to take place, the stars, and black backdrop knitting together at the same steady speed of her weaving.

"You're… _doing_ that, aren't you?

She jumped as his breath brushed the top of her head unexpectedly, but her fingers did not stop their practiced dance. She nodded, spotting his head of orange hair from the corner of her eye as he peered over her shoulder.

"Sora-nii – he gave me this job when I was still very little." She explained, keeping her gaze focused on her loom. As she wove, the growing product dipped further into the pool, stretching down into the depths.

"So, you… _weave_ the stars… the constellations and all of that?" He inquired, with far more curiosity than she could have expected. And she nodded once again.

"I do… so that the Gods can always be remembered. But also, the stories of humans," her lips curved into a wistful smile. "I do love those stories…"

He went quiet behind her, and she heard him shift. She chanced a glance his way, smiling when she noticed he had taken his place beside her. Legs crossed, arms folded securely over his chest, eyebrows furrowed into what was becoming a very familiar scowl.

And he sat there silently as she worked, the two of them falling into a comfortable silence. She wove, and he watched. She knew he was slowly thinking things over, taking in the situation with more calmness than she could have ever even hoped for.

"Then you're _actually_ a God – uh… _Goddess_?"

And she nodded in confirmation once more, her fingers moving slower over her loom as she neared the end of her task. It was a small star, and very little work for her after so many years, but she still took care to ensure it would be entirely different from the others she created. And a smaller part of her secretly loved the way he looked at her work in open _wonder_. No God had ever gazed upon her loom that way, for many of them could do so much more than her, and it warmed her heart to see such awe in his eyes.

"What _kind_ of Goddess are you?"

It was an innocent question, like asking what her favorite color was. So, it wasn't meant as a rude question or a jab at her expense, but she flinched, nonetheless. If he noticed, he didn't comment. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip for a moment before she answered.

"I-I'm just a Goddess… I don't particularly have domain over anything, like the other Gods might. I help my brother by weaving the stars, but otherwise…" She trailed off, struggling to come up with more to her explanation that wouldn't make her sound so… _underwhelming_. Even after so long, the fact that she did not know what sort of Goddess she was, was still a sore spot.

Her fingers finally ceased their movement on her loom, tying off the end so that she could continue the rest of her never-ending work on another night. With a simple gesture of her hand, the heavenly instrument lifted away from her lap and slowly sunk back to the depths. All the while Ichigo remained silent beside her, watching its decent until its heavenly golden glow could no longer be seen. Her fingers twisted together in her lap.

"You mentioned before, that I'm a… _what_ was it?" He finally asked, turning to face her properly, his hands braced on his knees. He left the matter of her Godhood aside, and she could not help but feel grateful.

"My Sacred Treasure, or rather, a Shinki…" She met his gaze, trying hard to mask her nervousness as he stared down at her. It was almost funny to think a Goddess would shrink under the gaze of a Shinki, but Orihime had never been a normal Goddess in the first place. And it so happened that her Shinki had a rather _strong_ gaze, in her defense.

"Sacred Treasure? Like… some kind of… _prize_?" His lips twisted, the idea obviously unpleasant to him. And she hurried to correct his assumption before such thoughts of him being a mere _prize_ set in. Because that was the last thing, she ever wanted him to think he was to her. It was the last thing she ever wanted him to _be_.

"No! No, never! A Sacred Treasure is a valuable tool of a God. We prize our Shinki just as much as we prize our lives! And, you are my chosen Shinki – my protector… my companion. And…" Her cheeks turned pink, her lashes lowering shyly. "… and hopefully, someday… my _friend_?"

He was silent for a long moment, seeming to think about her words deeply. And she forced herself to stay quiet, despite her nervousness. He could very well reject her as his Goddess – she wouldn't force him to stay shackled to her. It was not unusual for Shinki to request to be released if they were unhappy with their God. But the thought that he might choose to find another God to serve as a Shinki, hurt her more than she could have ever expected. And she wouldn't blame him and would even help him find a God that suited him. He would likely butt heads with Rukia-san and Renji-kun, and Byakuya-sama would surely find his hair color to be unsuitable – which was a shame because she rather liked his hair quite a bit – and…

She closed her eyes.

The only reason her standing as a Goddess was so high was due to her relation to Sora. And Ichigo deserved a God so much better than that. He would be a powerful Shinki, he already was, and he didn't even know it.

She was a pathetic Goddess indeed, surely not worthy of such a fine Shinki.

"Alright."

Her head snapped up, lips parting on a silent gasp. Warm brown eyes met her own, a hand extending toward her. Her eyes darted between his extended hand and his face as if trying to understand the gesture. And then she could not stop the smile from spreading over her lips. She extended her own hand in return, watching as his much larger one enveloped hers before shaking firmly. A warmth expanded in her chest, and for some reason could not explain she wanted to cry with joy.

"R-Really?" She stammered, gazing up at him with wide eyes of disbelief. His chocolate eyes darted away to the left, color touching his cheekbones as he absently scratched his cheek with his finger.

"Yeah. Really…"

"And you- you're sure? You _don't_ want a better God or Goddess?" She pressed, watching his face intently. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head almost appearing baffled by her words.

Tears clouded her vision and struggled to blink them away. But it was too late, they rolled down her cheeks and throat, wetting the collar of her kimono and dotting the back of her hand as she clenched her kimono in a vice. A small sob slipped past her lips.

She felt something tug on a lock of her hair, and it took only a moment to realize it was Ichigo who had done so. And he was watching her with a concerned, and slightly uncomfortable look on his face.

"Oi, what's with that face? You did that earlier…"

She sniffed – loudly – and rubbed her free hand over her cheeks to wipe away the few tears that had managed to escape. And she offered him a beaming, teary-eyed smile.

"F-Forgive me… I'm just so _happy._ "

He dropped the lock of her hair, drawing a knee up to his chest to rest his elbow upon it. He slouched somewhat, the picture of relaxation. And for some reason his clear ease in her presence only made her tears fall faster and her smile widen. Her lips trembled.

"You're crying because… you're _happy_?"

She nodded quickly, blinking rapidly to try and dispel the tears from her eyes. And although he was still scowling, his gaze softened noticeably. With little warning, he reached forward to lightly pinch her nose between his knuckles.

"That's a stupid reason to cry."

"I-Ichigo-kun!" She fought the urge to squeal, failing miserably.

"Don't cry – if you're happy, _smile_. If you cry when you're happy, how am supposed to protect you from what _really_ is bad?" He released her nose to fold his arms over his chest, his head turning to the side as if to survey the area. Her cheeks flared a brilliant red, and she smiled.

"Ichigo-kun is surprisingly gentle, ne?"

His cheeks darkened, and he returned to pinching her nose, ignoring her continued squeals of protest.

"Quiet."

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**

In the Royal Palace, Sora shifted with unease. His eyebrows furrowed, a frown tugging at his lips. His head cocked to the side, toward the large doors. For a moment, he could have sworn he had felt…

"Sora-sama?" Kiun shifted beside him, as if preparing to rise from his kneeling position. Sora raised a hand to halt him, shaking his head. Before him, the lesser God in audience fidgeted uneasily. Nothing more than a simple rice God, but it was his duty to meet every new God and inform them of the duties they were to undertake. A mere formality that took up more time than he liked, but necessary, nonetheless.

"It is nothing. My old mind is playing tricks on me."

And yet why did it still feel as if something dark was breathing down his neck?

 **.**

 **.**

 **.**


End file.
